From the Shadows
by agirlmustwrite
Summary: Pride the Arrogant. The first Homunculus Father created. But what if he wasnt?After disposing of a human who was learning too much too soon, Pride begins to unravel a secret threatens to destroy everything he knew to be true. ( Extreme AU. Could be considered crack. Don't mind me, I'm just trash) Multiple ships
1. Prolouge

_It's not surprising that my earliest memory is of darkness. My origins are what created me. The darkness is what I am. The shadow who is always watching,lurking, seeing what daylight cannot. That is why Father created me. To be the one who can see what he could not. To claim his sacrificial country. To keep watch. To be his most prized pawn. His shadow. His_ _Pride_ _._

 _Then why is it that it is not Father's voice I hear in my earliest memories?_

"You liar! You're lying!"

Who's lying?

"I'm not hysterical! Give him to me right now!"

Him? Who? Me? Who are **you?**

"You're lying! It...it can't be…"

You're not Father. Father doesn't falter.

"That's impossible…"

Father still had Greed. He knew nothing was impossible.

"I… I can't lose him, too…"

Father doesn't loose. Father never sounds so broken. So vulnerable.

So human.


	2. Pride

"Pride."

Huh? Who's there?

"Pride."

Who's that? Who's speaking?

"Pride?"

Someone's calling me? I'm Pride, right?

"Pride!"

My eyelids snap open-wait, they were closed?- and squinted at the dim light of Father's room.

"Hey Pride! You awake?"

I look towards the voice that had called , and I scowled at Envy's distasteful grin.

"Geez, I know you're stuck in a child's body, but do you really need a nap time?"

"I suggest you wipe that stupid grin off your face before I do it for you, Envy.

His face falls to a pout."Come on, big brother. You'd think after 400 years of life, you develop a sense of humor"

"And you'd think that after 300 years of life, you'd finally learn to keep your mouth shut, you insolent buffoon."

That made Envy pull his lips back in a snarl as rage boiled in his eyes. " High-and-mighty little shit-"

He yelps as my shadow threateningly slides in front of his neck. I feel a dangerous grin firm on my face. I know his least favorite death: decapitation. He always complains about how much of a pain it is to grow a new head.

" Mind saying that again? I couldn't quite hear you over blatant insubordination."

"Pride."

We both go rigid at Father's stern tone. I hate when I get in trouble because it happens so little. And when it does, it feels like judgment day.

"You mustn't let your brother get to you. Emotion shows weakness."

I sigh and retract my shadow. "Understood, Father."

"And Envy. Do not bicker with your siblings. It is unsightly."

Envy mutters "Yes, Father."

"Father."

My attentions goes towards the new occupant of the room. Lust struts over to us, her usually bored yet seductive smile replaced by a frustrated frown.

" What is it, my child?"

Lust let's out a sigh. "There's a soldier digging into the archives. He's seeming very interested in the history of Amestris."

Envy snortes. "So? Let the history nerd play. I don't see the."

"He has a map, Envy."

The room becomes quiet, before Envy stammered out, " You-you don't think he's going to- a lowly human can't possibly figure out-!"

Lust interrupts his rambling. "Do you wish for me to dispose of him, Father?"

Father sits there, expressionless as ever. Showing no worry over a situation that could potentially ruin our entire plan.

Finally, he speaks. "Is he a potential sacrifice?"

"No, just a regular officer. However, he does seem to have ties to the Fullmetal Alchemist and Flame Alchemist."

"Then dispose of him. It is not yet time for them to know their roles."

Lust nods. "Yes, Father."

Father relaxes into his seat and says, "Also, one of you must accompany her."

Envy jumps off from the cord he's perched and said, "I'm going! I could use a good kill."

After his taunting, there's no way I'll let him have this satisfaction."No, I will."

Envy turns to me, a frown in his mouth and sarcasm in his eyes. "Isn't it past your bedtime, Selim Bradley?"

The emphasis on my alias and the deliberate poke at my form? Oh, he's going to pay for that.

"Father, I request to go on this mission."

"Request accepted."

Envy's face is almost laughable. "W-what?! Father! Why does he get to go?!"

"Do not question me, Envy," Father booms.

Envy sinks back, and mumbles, "Sorry."

I grin and walk off with Lust towards the nearest passage running under the Central Archives.

"Who is this human, anyways?"

Her flips her hair over her shoulders showing her ouroboros tattoo. "Just an intelligence officer who can't keep his mouth."

My shadow's coil down the tunnel,sliding up the walls and through the cracks of the Central Archive floorboards.I begin to slide with them.

"Well, we're just going to have to teach him how to,aren't we?"

I groan in frustration. My Gate, this man is stubborn. He just wouldn't give up. He thought that if he got a public phone booth, he'd be able to tell about his finding. As if it wasn't the most predictable move.

Though I have to admit, it's more clever than most humans would have thought of. And he did uncover the plot before anyone else. It is a shame to have to kill off such a clever man.

I follow his trail of blood to the phone booth. I lurk in the shadows as he shouts at the receptionist

"Hurry up! Its urgent!"

I quickly replace my grin for "Selim's" wide-eyed curiosity, while my shadows trailing behind me retain their malice smiles. I walk out of the shadowy alley and over to the phone booth.

"Excuse me?"

He jumps and turns around, and something curious happens. He looks at me as if he's seen a ghost.

"Hey Mister, you alright?"

He blinks, as if out of a trance, and then stutters out, "I-I'm sorry. It's just that you look an awful lot like someone I know."

Odd. Selim Bradley's name is definitely known, the face is another matter. I don't exactly look like Wrath, so who could he be referring to?

He shakes his head. "Nah, it couldn't be, " he mutters, then smiles. "What are you doing out here so late?" I just return the the smile, before feigning a shocked expression.

"Mister! You're bleeding!"

He look towards his wound, and gives me a nervous laugh."Oh, that's nothing to worry about, I'm fine."

"Oh no,it's gonna stain! Let me help you!"

"It's okay, kid, that isn't-"

His sentence is cut short by a gurgle of blood boiling to his mouth. I let my facade drop, and I laugh without restraint as he chokes on his own blood, his shaking hands trying to grasp the shadow now protruding from his stomach.

"There! Now people won't be able to tell it's a stain!"

I retract the shadow, leaving a cavity in his stomach. He slumps to the ground with a thud, just as the call comes in.

"Hughes, if this is about your daughter-"

I push the disconnect button, and the call ends.I don't worry about evidence, homunculi don't have fingerprints. All the more reason for me to enjoy the the cross between pain and rage plastered on the dying man's face.

"You-you little bastard. W-what the hell are you?"

I smirk. "Something far superior to you humans, I can assure you."

He hacks up some more blood, and I turn my heel towards the shadows, to report back to Father. As I step into the darkness, I hear a choked sob.

"I'm sorry, Elicia. Daddy's not...coming home early...tonight."

I shot sounds off, and I turn back to see the soldier limp, blood protruding from his head. The culprit scoffs.

"My Truth, he needed to shut up."

"Envy!" I snarl." What are you doing here?!"

"Helping you kill him, what does it look like?"

He shouts in pain as I stab his leg, dangerously close to his stone, before screeching out "What was that for, you brat?!"

" You disobeyed orders. You're lucky I'm not ripping your stone out right now."

" I get it! I screwed up! Now get this out so we can leave befor we are found out!"

I draw it out, and Envy grounded out a few curses as he regenerates. I smirk, and taunt:

"Quiet your filthy mouth, I'm too young to hear this."

He side-glares me, and then growls,"Then why don't you clean up some evidence and then go back to bed, like a good brat."

I glance back at the corpse, finding no evidence other then the bullet in his skull. Until my eye catches a small slip of paper. I quickly pick it up. It's not legible from all the blood its drenched in. But I can't take any risks. I quickly stuff it into my shirt, before slipping into the shadows.

Soldiers shout as they race to the dead man, and fade as I sink back home.


	3. Roy

"Son, you need to stop while you still have a liver."

I send the glass hurling at his direction, or at least what I think is his direction. The crashing glass sound coming from the wall in front of me tells me I'm off. Fuck it, and fuck him.

I hear the ass bartender scoff, as he grabs a rag, wiping down the contents of my scotch spilled on the counter. But then I hear him murmur something.

"Soldiers these days. No wonder they're dropping like flies."

I bolt up from my seat, my head spinning from god knows how many days of drinking. But that doesn't matter. as soon as I can focus, I grab the bartender's collar and lug him over the bar.

"What. Did. You. Just. Say?" I growl out.

The geezer looks like he's about ready to shit himself. He stammers out some half assed apology, but I'm done. I'm done with random people giving me their half-assed condolences. Weeks of having to listen to every single damn "I'm sorry you lost your best friend." And ever shitting "He was a good soldier." I am so done, so angry I could kill someone, just like the bastard who I'm going to kill did to Hughes.

Just like I'm going to do to this old bastard right here.

At least that what I think before the bouncer comes over and I turn my intentions to beating the ever-loving shit out of him.

So, maybe that wasn't the best idea, with it ending with me on the sidewalk, nursing a black eye. Apparently the bar called one of my emergency contacts to come pick me up. It just pisses me off even more. I'm half tempted to just leave, instead of having someone on my team take me home and tuck me in bed like some teen having his first drink. I haven't seen them in a week, I don't need their first impression in a while to be how pathetic I've been dealing with this whole idea.

Especially if she's the one they contacted. Who am I kidding? Of course they called her. I gotta get out of here. If I see her looking at me with that disappointed look on her face, I'll kill someone for real.

I stand up, the dim lights of the street buzzing through my vision. I take a few steps, stumbling a bit, before falling flat on my face. I groan in pain, and I hear footsteps coming towards me. The gravel crunches, and I lift my face up to see one I know all too well.

"So, this is where you've been, sir?"

"Don't patronize me, Lieutenant." I snarl.

"It was a legitimate question. As is this one: do you want a hand up?"

I lift myself up, brushing off her offer for help as I steady myself onto the lamppost. "And no, I haven't spent all week here?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Exactly how many bars have you been to this week?"

"Hell if I know," I answer truthfully. "But this has been the only I've been kicked out of."

"And it's going to be the only one. I'm taking you home."

I frown. "I'm not done, I still have a drink to finish."

She sighs. "Permission to act freely, sir?"

I shrug. No concern of mine, as long as she's gone, and I get my-

I feel her tug my arm as she yanks me behind her, towards a car. I struggle as best as I can, but she just pulls harder. Damn, she's not usually this strong.

"And you're not usually this drunk."

Crap, did I say that out loud?

"Yes, you did"

Damn.

"Language."

I glare at her as she opens the door to the car, and puts me in.

"I'm not drunk." I tell her. She just rolls her eyes- the nerve of her- and she deadpans

"Keep telling yourself that, sir."

She slams the door, and I simmer down into my seat. She rears around the side into the driver seat, and turned the ignition on. The car buzzes to life and a jolt a bit. Soon, we're on the road, silence surrounding the car. I fight the urge to look at her, but it soon gets the best of me. She's focused on the road intently. But there's something in her eyes that seems off. When we pass by a street lamp, the light hit her face and I can see dark circles under her eyes. Shit.

"Lieutenant what time is it?"

"Three in the morning, sir."

Shit's right. Why didn't I realize that? Now that I'm starting to get ,my vision in focus, and my heads starting to throb a bit, I realize she's in a pair of pajamas.

"Crap, did you wake up just to bring me home?"

She pauses for a moment. "Wouldn't be the first time."

I wince. I forgot about that. Whenever I had a fight with her dad during my apprenticeship, i'd go out and get drunk, just to piss the old geezer off. Of course, it ended with him and an equally pissed Riza dragging my ass home. Hawkeyes were forces to be reckoned with, even when one was in pink flannel pajamas and the other was wearing fuzzy slippers and a bathrobe. I chuckle at the thought.

"What's so funny?"

"Just thinking of when your father used to come to the bar and smack me with his slippers."

I see a ghost of a smile cross her lips. "And then when you got a hangover, he'd make you balance an alchemy text on your head till the headache went away."

"It doesn't work, it just hurts like a bitch."

"That was the point"

I scoff. "You Hawkeyes are sadistic bastards, you know that?"

She laughs. Actually laughs. If I wasn't wasted, i'd revel in the rare sound. But for now, it just makes my head throb. She murmurs a sorry, and it's silent again. The streets a blurred in my eyes, so I can't tell if we're going to my house or hers. Probably mine, she's made it very clear in the past that if I was getting smashed on work time, i'd be the one to take care of my own hangover. Well screw that, I have a perfectly good bottle of tequila somewhere in the cabinets. Few more drinks, and no hangover. Just perfectly wonderful hate-filled intoxication. I could stand to use a few more days of not feeling like murdering so one or myself.

"-help you."

I turn myself towards her direction. I didn't realizes she was still talking. "What was that?"

"I said he was just trying to help you, we all were. Dad, me...Maes." a cringe, she notices, but continues with sadness in her eyes." We all just wanted to help you reach your potential."

I roll my eyes. "Well, you did. Congratulations. I'm at my best. A pathetic drunk mess who looks like shit."

"Now sir, you don't-" she pauses, does a once over of me,.and then frowns. "Actually, you're right, you look pretty bad."

'And somehow you look like a goddess, even at three at the morning' is what I want to say, but the only thing that comes out is "Gee, thanks."

The car is silent and awkward for a minute, before she starts up again. "You know he wouldn't want this."

It stings, when she tells the truth so blatantly. It adds to my built up rage,and I seeth out "I know."

"Then why do you keep on doing-?"

"Why? Why? Oh, I don't know, maybe it's because I'm a human being! Maybe it's because that's what happens when a human being loses his best friend! It's the one thing I can do to prove that I am human-."

"Now you stop that right there, Maes's death is no excuse for you to-."

"Not that you'd know anything about feelings."

The car comes to a stop in an abrupt jerk. I get a bit of whiplash,and yell a few curses before she turns to me, eyes filled with rage and horror.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

I keep going, I'm itching to get all this anger out, and I don't care how. "I wonder? I, I know! It means you're a heartless bitch who hasn't shed a tear over the death of so one you've known since you were six-."

My cheek stings when she slaps me. Hard. Hard enough to send me crashing against the car door. I hold my assaulted flesh as I turn to her, ready to yell at her, until I see her face. My stomach drops.

Her eyes, red as amethysts, not quite Ishvalan, but something close, are shiny with tears as her lip quivers. Her brow is scrunched in a cross between utter rage and despair, as she begins to hiccup, her shoulders shaking at the sound.

What have I done?

"Lieutenant, I-."

She slaps me again.

"Hawkeye, please-"

Somehow harder this time.

"Riza, for fuck's sake, I'm sor-!"

She punches this time. In the eye. Now I'm going to have two black eyes.

"No. Don't speak. Don't say anything, and don't you damn say you're sorry. You've gone too far this time."

She unbuckles herself, and in a panic, I grab her arm.

"Wait. What are you-."

"Getting you out. You're walking from here. Now let go!"

"No! Not until you listen!"

She shakes my hand off. "I'm done listening to your 'woe is me' shit, Mustang!"

Her eyes ate a brilliant fierceness, even with tears in them, as burn right into my soul. "If you truly cared about Maes, you'd be using his death as a motive to live your life to the fullest, by not let him dying hold you back. That's what Maes would've wanted, for us to stop wasting our lives crying over what we lost, and get on with it!"

I'm speechless. I don't know what to do. Don't know what to say. I can only croak out her name. She resumes what she was doing, and I a panic, I fling myself around her waist, grasping tightly. She viciously tries to fight me off.

"Get off, Roy!"

"No! If you'd-ouch!-you'd just- ow!Hey!-just listen!"

She stiffens abruptly when my hand accidentally slipped under the hem of her shirt, and is pressed against her stomach. I feel jagged flesh, almost like a-

All the air on my lungs is pushed out when I feel an elbow in my stomach. I hear a door clicking open behind me before I'm shoved out of my seat, landing on my ass. I look up her, confused as all hell. My blood freezes.

All sorrow is washed away from her eyes is replaced by pure murderous intent.

"Don't touch me there again. EVER. Got it?"

I nod dumbly. She slams the door in my face, and drives off. I have absolutely no idea what just happened. All I know is that I'm wasted, my best friend is six feet under, and the most precious person in my life probably hates me now.

I'm really going to need that glass of tequila.


	4. PrideSelim

"Selim, are you getting ready?"

"Yes, Mother! I'm almost done!"

"Breakfast is ready when you're done!"

"Okay, Mother! Be right there!"

I roll my eyes as I fold the paper in half. It's still drenched in blood.I can't do much about it, now. Lest my 'mother' come up and find me looking at a blood drenched paper. I have come to have an almost fondness for her, and I don't really feel like killing her. But I'm considering it, what with the monstrosity she has laid out for me to wear. It's hideous, some unholy mixture of puke green and grey mold. And that's just the jacket. The tie is orange, mixed with brown. And with the shorts, it's a monstrosity.

"It's a special occasion,"she says. "You have to wear something nice," she says. What is so special about this "pre-school?" In all my years, I've never had to go to school as part of my cover. Never. I practically created most of the events they teach, anyways. This has no purpose whatsoever. Mother said that she wanted me to "play with people my own age," and Wrath says it would look odd if the Fuhrer's son didn't go to school. Bullshit, he's just looking for an excuse to embarrass me, sadistic little shit that he is.

And would you look at that? As soon as I make my way to the breakfast table, there he is, covering a smirk behind the newspaper.

"Oh Selim, look at you! You look so dashing!" Mother gushes.

So hideous is the new handsome? Good to know. I try to hide my disgust with a childish excuse.

"Mother, it's too itchy. Can't I wear something else?"

"Selim, it's a nice suit," On what planet? "And you will only have to wear it today. You'll only be there for a few hours anywho. You'll be fine!"

"But Mother-."

"Selim, listen to your mother."

I send Wrath a glare, trying to say "shut-up" in the most effective way possible. It won't do anything as I'm stuffed inside a military issued car with mother and the butler soon after. A ten minute drive of watching humans go about their boring lives comes to a stop at a building even more horrific than my dress wear.

For starters, the door is painted like a rainbow. A freaking rainbow. Children's crude artwork hang in the windows of the bright yellow building, and streamers hang from the purple roofing. And a crappy banner reading "Welcome to Central Preschool!" hung in the archway in fluorescent pink.

This is disgusting.

"This is adorable!" My mother squeals, to which the butler replies "Indeed, Madame."

We're ushered inside the "school" by a women with bobbed black hair and a red dress with white polka dots. She says she's the teacher, I say she's a failed pin-up tart. And what she shows us is no better to look at. The walls are covered in paint and drool. The floor is littered with dismembered girls' dolls and toy cars. The book are reduced to ripped card-stock and loose papers. Children are rampaging around the room, creating even more chaos. If this is the first day, I hate to see what it's going to look like later.

"Our school is often praised for being the set bar for all military funded primary education centers, Mrs. Bradley. We would be honored to have Selim join our program."

Big words coming out of a mouth painted with drugstore lipstick. And would you look at that, it's smudged. Oh I'm sure she's honored. She's "honored" that now that the Fuhrer's kid is here, she be able to afford lipstick that won't stain whichever soldier she's "honoring". Humans.

My mother adjusts her purse before holding my hand and gestured to the woman. "Thank you so much, Miss Edith. Selim, this is your new teacher, Miss Edith."

The human extends her hand and gives me a far too preppy smile. "Its very nice to meet you, Selim! I'm sure we're going to be very good friends!"

I'm not shaking her hand. I don't shake hands. Luckily, this form has some advantages. I play the shy child, hiding behind my mother's dress, to which she clicks her tongue.

"Selim, don't be shy!" She then turns to the teacher. " I'm sorry, he's usually not this shy."

The teacher laughs. "It's alright, a lot of students are scared their first day. Why don't we let him play outside on the playset with the other children." She turns to me, and flashes a grin. "Do you like swing sets?"

Embarrassingly, I find them rather relaxing. I nod, and she leads us to the outside. Its not as bad as the inside. It's shaded by trees, and the grass isn't entirely scuffed up. The play structure looks like a death trap, yet it attracts the majority of the children. Thankfully, no one is at the swing set. If it stays that way, this could actually not be torture.

My mother turns to me, a few tears collecting in her tear ducts as she crouches down in front of me, her lip quivering. Oh no, I hate when she does this, it's never as enjoyable when other humans do it, but for some reason, it really bugs me when she does it.

"Now Selim, this is a big s-step, and I know that you're nervous, but I just want you to know that your father and I really p-proud of y-you.. and... and-"

"Aww, Mom, don't cry!" I do the "natural thing" and hug her. It's awkward to me, but I've come to feign sincerity in this act. Besides, it's kind of... nice. For a human ritual, that is.

"Oh, I know, sweetie, I know. It's just that you're growing up so fast. Mother's just being a bit sentimental. Just the blubbering of an old woman, don't you mind me."

"Mom, come on, you're not old!" Especially if you compare her to my age.

She laughed. "If only. Now stop your worrying, that's my job! Go off and make some friends, I'll have a word with your teacher, then I'll be back in a few hours."

She pulls me into a hug, which I hesitantly return. She waves me goodbye as she back in doors, and I wave until she's out of sight. I take in the chaotic surroundings in disgust. Leaving me to fend for myself in this hell hole? Perhaps Wrath and I rubbed off on her.

I stay clear of the onslaught of a screaming toddlers and make a beeline for the swing set. It's quiet, save for the chains creaking beneath my 'll do. It'll help me kill time. It's completely dull, this school has no use for my mission. No potential candidates for human sacrifice have children. There are no suspect people in the military with children. There is nothing I can get from this. I can try to roam my shadows around the perimeter. See if there's any way to get to Father from here.

I stretch my shadows a bit to the closest tree, and split them into a few parts. They run around the barriers of the enclosed wall, searching for cracks and crevices. When I find none, I stretch them towards the gate leading to the front yard. From the looks of it, there's a rusted lock that can be easily picked. A smirk forms on my shadow. 'This is going to be too easy-'

A scream rings through the air, and I snap my shadows back on a reflex. All attention is directed to the little corner by the gate I was investigating. Damn it, did someone see? The rushes over to the corner towards what I guess is the student. I try to see the child with the offending scream, but they must be hidden in the corner. An entourage of children follow, curiosity and worry in their eyes. I stay on the swing set, but stretch my shadows a bit closer to listen in on the conversation.

"Sweetie, what's the matter?"

"A-A-A shadow! T-there was a scary shadow- a-and it was smiling!" Comes a new, childish voice.

There's a pause, before the children burst out into laughter. The teacher is trying to scold them, but is only making matters worse.

"You're afraid of your own shadow~!" One child taunts.

"I-it's not mine!" The accused child protests.

"You're scared of the dark!" Another child adds.

"I am not! Daddy said there's no monsters in the dark to be afraid of!"

Another voice, a bit older than the previous, chimed in, "Was that before or after he took that night shift?"

There's a pregnant pause. Before the teacher stammers out, "Lawrence, that was a horrible thing to say, you need to apologize right this-."

"My Dad says that you're dad died at night, not even in battle like a real soldier. Did the scary shadows get him, too?"

The boy cries out as the sound of a body being pushed to the ground rings through the air. There's movement coming from the crowd as the teacher calls out to someone. Suddenly a child comes bursting out of the crowd and runs towards my direction. Whoever they are, their face is covered by their arms as they rush right past the swing set and into the bushes behind me.I turn around in my seat to see the bush rustling as the child makes their way behind the bushes.

It's no concern of mine why their crying, but this child saw my shadows. I can't kill them, not here. But I need to keep them under observation until I can. I hop off my seat and walk over to the bushes. I round the big bush to find a sniffing girl. She has to be perhaps a year younger than the other children, she's too small to be five. She has that appearance of a child whose parents tried to dress her up proper, but is far too wild for her dresses. Her pigtails are lopsided, most likely from running around. Her green dress with floral designs has mud caked all over it. Her shoes are scuffed up too. There is nothing clean about this human. When she lifts her head, it's not all that different. Dirt is smudged on her chubby face, mixed with tears and snot. The only slightly redeeming factor is her eyes. Though their red from crying, they do have a nice green color to them. Kind of like fresh grass- What am I thinking? This is a human. A very young human, too. And she's crying. Not even the socially acceptable few tears down the face, it's full on snot and everything. There is nothing remotely nice looking about this human child. In fact, she looked ridiculous.

"You look ridiculous!" the child growls.

I take a moment to process that. "Did I say that out loud?"

I ask. The girl nods before sniffing. "And it wasn't very nice! Didn't your mommy and daddy tell you to be nice to girls?"

"Of course," I scoff, rolling my eyes. " But I don't see a girl, just a baby."

"I ain't a baby!" The girl protests. "I'm three!"

'So, I'm four hundred years old?' Is my initial response, but I need to censor it a bit. "So? I'm four and a half."

"That's not much older! Your a big hippo-cricket!"

"I think you mean hypocrite"

"Same thing!" The girl insists, before standing up, placing her tiny chubby hand on her hips, scowling.

"Go away and be mean to someone else!"

"I'm not mean," I deadpan. "Just truthful."

The girl let's out an exasperated scream, before brushing past him, and straight to the tree near by, kicking it, further scuffing up her shoes. Primitive little beast.

"I wanna go home!" The girls yells abruptly. "I want my mommy! I want my daddy!"

'And I want to kill annoying little mortals. But neither of us are going to get what we want.' "Well, the teacher said we can go home in a few hours. So you'll see your mommy and daddy-."

"I can't see my daddy! He's buried under ground!"

Oh. Now that whole ordeal with the child taunting her about her father made sense. It's not unusual, humans die every day. Soldiers more often. But it doesn't make sense why humans feel the need to show emotion for something that happens so often. Still they insist on crying about it. Every. Damn. Time. Strangely, they never shut up until you offer them sympathy.

"I...I'm sorry," I mumble, trying to feign sympathy.

"For what?" She sniffs.

"For your dad."

She looks up at him, her green eyes enlarged from shock, before she buries her face in her knees again. "It's okay... it wasn't your fault," she mutters into her skirt. She sighs before looking up and giving him a tear streaked smile. "Thank you. You're nice for a meanie."

I'm going to guess that's a compliment. Well, it's a start. It'll be easier to keep an eye on her if she thinks I'm nice. I swallow all my disgust towards human, because if I'm going to make this work, I'm going to need to tolerate humans for a while. Its my punishment for getting caught, and I'll bare the cross proudly. I extend my hand, and offer a smile.

"I'm Selim."

The girl looks at my hand, wipes her nose and then grasps my firmly, giving a firm shake. I try not to recoil at the disgusting act. Somehow her bright smile somehow makes it more bearable.

"I'm Elicia."


End file.
